639.

March 31 will mark my fourth year of life without Mr. Bliss.

Although we meet often in my dreams, I will always miss him in waking life.

His beautiful smile, his willingness to help, the way he always encouraged me to try whatever half-baked notion I brought to him as a "what if", his zest for life...

He is missed by many, not just Baby Bliss and I or his family.

He touched a great number of lives. Hundreds. Possibly thousands. Maybe more.

He was one of the few people I've met in life who seemed to truly embrace his professed belief in Christ's teachings. Not in a stern Bible-thumping way but in the way he welcomed everyone with love.

He didn't care about a person's skin color, what kind of car someone drove, a person's religion, sexual preference, favorite food, shoe size... Mr. Bliss was open to possibility, if not for himself then for everyone else.

It's part of why we got along as well as we did.

Mr. Bliss loved holidays and the Easter season was on that list. Yesterday was Palm Sunday and I cried when I thought of what our day would have been like if he was still here.

He would have been up early fixing breakfast for us to enjoy before church. After church we probably would have had a nice dinner out, me and him talking about the delicious dinner we would have at grandma's on Easter Sunday...

Mr. Bliss was the best of all my husbands. Not to detract from the others because they all had their good points and there was one who would have been the best if there had been no Mr. Bliss.

What I mean is that Mr. Bliss was the best person for me because I was the best person for him. We fit in ways that didn't happen with the others.

If you have yet to meet the person who just does it for you, keep looking. I hope that old saying, "There's someone for everyone" is true because there is nothing like finding your "someone".

I'm so thankful that Mr. Bliss and I were in the right place at the right time on that fateful evening in October 1995; so thankful for the time we had together.

Every sloppy kiss and rolled eye, every squeeze of the derriere and every slammed door, every moment we spent holding hands on the couch and every time we ran the streets together -- it's all part of the magical perfectly imperfect history we shared once upon a time.

Until we meet again my darling Mr. Bliss...

Here is one of your favorite songs from one of your favorite movies. Laugh with me dear while you listen and know that you live in our hearts forever.

Amen.

638.

For those who celebrate, Hosanna! I hope your Palm Sunday was one of revelation.

I was thankful to have awakened itch-free Sunday morning.

The story:

A short while after I got home from our glorious Sista Circle celebration, my face began to feel itchy.

I looked in the mirror and yep, just what I thought: hives. 

If you've never had hives (known to medical professionals as "urticaria", pronounced ur-tih-CARE-ee-uh), thank God and pray that you never will.

I've danced with them a number of times over the past 20 years.

The first time was after a cousin's baby shower. 

I was home playing solitaire on my desktop. My thighs began itching badly. I thought I'd scraped them under my desk one too many times, scooting back and forth in my chair.

When I checked, there were no scratches, only skin covered in raised welts.

I was horrified and didn't know what to do.

It must have been traumatic because I can't recall what happened next. Nor do I remember how it was diagnosed as hives.

What I do remember is deducing that the culprit was something (crab meat) another cousin had put in a seafood salad I'd eaten at the party. Her seafood salads were requested for many family parties but I'd never eaten if before that day.

Since then, I haven't been able to eat crab without an episode. 

Oh horror!

I grew up in a region that had crab cakes on menus all over town and in a family that feasted on crabs at every opportunity every summer until many of us moved south.

It was difficult to abstain but I've managed. It became easier after we relocated.

Saturday night there was gumbo. I've never eaten it and I really really wanted to try it. But the gumbo had crab meat in it. Sadly, I had to say no.

There's really no need to stress over this latest episode of hives because I may never know the cause.
(Definitely not crab because I didn't eat the gumbo. My new makeup? Maybe... A combination of something? Possibly...)

Any who, it's taken years but I have an effective solution: tiny homeopathic pellets called apis mellifica.

Thank God for homeopathy.

Amen.

637.

Happy Saturday everyone!

It's overcast here, windy, a bit chilly. In the past few weeks we've had an abundance of sunshine and warm temps and I know they'll return soon so I'm not complaining.

I've already been out gallivanting and although the weather does require warm outerwear of some sort there's no need to drag the mink out of storage again.

However, when I hit the streets later, it's likely I'll be wearing pants, a rarity for me.

If I didn't have a previous engagement, I would be staying in tonight. But one of the sista-friends in our circle is hosting a themed event at her home this evening.

She's from that town in Louisiana known for partying and jazz funerals. Surely this evening's festivities will be worth me braving March winds for one night.

The party starts in a few hours so y'all know what that means.

Time for me to get ready to get ready.

More later...

636.

The Mojita is gone. Imbibed. Did it's job.

I'll have another one day.

Funny that we saw it on the shelf in Target last night.

Funnier that it cost a whole dollar more at Target. I think Target price-matches but the store near me is closer.

***

It's almost time for a beach run for we two Bliss.

Sadly, Baby Bliss and I didn't have a vacation together last year. I went home twice -- once for a class reunion and once to visit a friend. Baby Bliss barely left the county.

True, she's an adult now and can run off with her friends at any given moment. Often she does. But she's a teenager, as are her friends. In the interest of caution, Baby Bliss isn't interested in taking extended trips without real adults.

I believe she gets that cautious streak from me and I'm glad she has it. Hopefully it will help keep her out of trouble as she journeys through life.

Soon she and I will be strolling the shores of our beach of choice. If we like the accommodations and the atmosphere, we'll go again after the summer crowds thin out.

In between, I'm scheduled to take a trip with two sista-friends. Both of them are long-time friends, one a true friend; the other is friend-like.

It's awkward when you're good friends with someone who has another good friend that you just don't mesh well with and your good friend likes to include their other good friend in on some things that require you to be in close proximity with the other friend for too long.

We've had that experience. Sometimes the other friend is really cool and fun; sometimes she's not. Those are the times I wish she had a mute button.

She likes to make snide personal comments and ask questions about things that just aren't her business (because she's not my good friend).

What the hell am I thinking? I'm not going on a vacation with that woman and my good friend. Three is an awkward number any way. Definitely for a vacation. I like even numbers. Two. Four. Six.

Gotta call my good friend and let her know I won't be there.

Vacation is for relaxation.

Amen.

635.

In today's news, I'm trying Something New.

Baby Bliss is totally besotted with drinking kombucha as often as possible.

One word: yuck.

Two words: It stinks.

The bouquet is my biggest issue.

In cat-like fashion, if something smells off, I won't eat or drink it. Surely there are millions of people in the world who share this inclination as well.

Yesterday when we made our water-refill/what's-for-dinner/and-some-of-that-too run at our local healthy foods market, Baby Bliss spotted her favorite brand of kombucha.

Of course she did. We have to pass it on the way to the refill machine.

She immediately informed me that she needed a bottle. Because it settles her stomach, which always needs settling. (So says she...)

As I had already spent $4.00 of my hard-earned money on something I'd bought her earlier, I wasn't inclined to add another $4.00 to the tally.

After she wore me down with her five-minute filibuster (yes, I know I'm using the word out of context), we reached an agreement: she would hush and I would buy the stinky drink.

Then I spotted something called a "sparkling probiotic drink". The name of the flavor is what caught my eye: Mojita Lime Mint Coconut.

Sounded like something magical...

Let me tell y'all a story:

Many dog years ago, when I was a drinker, a cousin introduced me to that tantalizing concoction known as the mojito. I immediately decided it was the most delicious alcoholic beverage I'd ever tasted.

I only had one in my whole drinking life and thank goodness I wasn't much of a drinker. That thing was so good that today I might be a raving alcoholic, chasing the sublime deliciousness of my first mojito, if not for my temperate nature concerning all things boozy.

Back in the produce aisle, after a brief discussion with Baby Bliss the Kombucha Queen, I decided to take a chance on this new-found temptation.

My darling daughter must have chug-a-lugged hers soon after we arrived home. I didn't see her do it but the empty bottle was on her nightstand when I went to her bedroom to talk with her a few hours later.

Several times over the course of the evening, she asked me if I was ready to drink mine. (No, I was not.)

It took me a while to get around to it. By then Baby Bliss had taken it from the fridge and said she would try it first, even though she hates anything to do with coconut.

She didn't like the taste but thought I would.

I did.

Eventually.

The first sip, while not horrible, was surprising and not in a good way. I found myself thinking, "At least it doesn't stink" because I wasn't sure that it wouldn't.

It took a few sips before I could say it was almost good. As long as it wasn't nasty, I was getting my $2.35 worth.

By the time I got half to three-fourths of it in my belly, it was bed time.

The remainder now rests in the darkness of the fridge, waiting for me to finish it off soon.

Soon...

***

Here's a tidbit for the next post: I had a breakfast date yesterday.

Stay tuned for more.

634.

The other night I bought tickets to see two of my favorite musical talents in concert.

The show is in mid-summer.

Baby Bliss said she'll go with me.

I am so excited!

Life is good.

Amen.

633.

I hung out with my grandma, two aunties, and a cousin for a few hours yesterday before I headed home from the birthday party.

My grandma has quite the sense of humor. Right on the edge of, "Grandma! I can't believe you said that!"

She had us all cracking up. I returned the favor by showing her funny animal photos from the internet.

Being there, enjoying a good time with my family, I was reminded of how much I had loved spending weekends, summers, and school holidays at grandma's house for so many years of my childhood. Even though we don't always agree on things these days, I love grandma for all she's done to help me, for everything she's taught me.

Laughing with grandma and my aunts was a great ending to a great day. As I headed home, I found myself thinking, "If only she could be like that all time..."

*sigh*

Knowing grandma, she was probably thinking the same thing about me while I was walking out her door.